Opinion: How pedigree bull Colin failed to deliver

A year ago, Colin, my first pedigree Sussex bull, ambled casually down the tailgate of my Ifor Williams and on to my farm. Things have not gone well since.
To prepare for his arrival, I’d thoughtfully invested in what I’d hoped would be a dream welcome for this two-year-old blue-blooded prince. Namely a harem of 20 very well-bred Sussex pedigree cows. But from the outset, Colin’s mind seemed fixed on matters other than romance. Namely, eating and sleeping.
The ladies did their coy best to interest him in their charms. When that produced no response they not-so-demurely rode his rear end to give him a hint about what they had in mind.
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When he pointedly failed to take the hint some of them even resorted to riding each other in a spot of raunchy simulated girl-on-girl action in the hope that might kickstart his libido. But all to no avail: Colin just ate some more and went to sleep.
I was sufficiently alarmed by his apparent uninterest in the fairer sex that I made a few phone calls to those who know a thing or two about Sussex cattle.
More than one reassured me that “Sussex bulls work at night”. This immediately begged the question “Are Sussex cows so unattractive to their male suitors that they need the lights switched off before they can perform?” Was this why Sussex cattle had become such a rare breed?
“Colin’s mind seemed fixed on matters other than romance. Namely, eating and sleeping.”Stephen Carr
Given my unease, you will understand that the subsequent pregnancy testing of my Sussex cows last October was a tense affair. Although not a disaster (Colin evidently was indeed a bit of a night-time Lothario), he had nonetheless failed to get several cows in calf. For this year’s mating season I therefore decided to purchase another Sussex bull and split the pedigree herd into two separate grazing groups. I then planned to rotate the two bulls between the two groups of females.
So it was that Dennis, a seven-year-old pedigree Sussex bull, arrived last month. He was invited to serve 25 cows while Colin was to have the run of 20 maiden heifers on another part of the farm.
While Dennis took up his role with suitable gusto, Colin, true to form, went lame on the first day and retired to a corner of the field to eat.
This prompted his immediate retrieval from the field and an emergency search for yet another Sussex bull to cover for Colin’s absence. Eventually I found Harry who is turning out to be everything that Colin is not. Indeed, a recent meeting with a South Downs National Park official in the field where Harry was running with the heifers became embarrassing, such was Harry’s rampant lovemaking. It’s not easy to concentrate on a discussion about the best way to reinstate wildflower-rich downland pasture to the soundtrack of an enthusiastic young bull in the throes of orgasmic bliss with not one, not two, but three different heifers in quick succession.
Which brings me back to Colin. When he shakes off his lameness, I now have no use for him and couldn’t possibly sell him to another breeder with a clear conscience. The solution is obvious given that a pedigree bull enters into a Faustian pact with his owner: he is provided with heaven on earth in this life but heaven help him if he fails to perform. I am currently therefore scouring the internet for a chilly version of cattle hell – a large chest freezer.
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Stephen Carr runs an 800ha sheep, arable and beef farm on the South Downs near Eastbourne in partnership with his wife Fizz. Part is converted to organic status and subject to a Higher Level Stewardship agreement